


Yes, Tom - Chapter 14

by riddlemetitillatedhiddles (ninecats)



Series: Yes, Tom [14]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: Dildos, Dom/sub, F/M, Oral Sex, Rope Bondage, Roughness, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2012-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-19 00:46:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninecats/pseuds/riddlemetitillatedhiddles





	Yes, Tom - Chapter 14

 

Gazing into his eyes, I felt safer than I ever had before. I loved the feeling of being held, his arms so protective around me. It seemed so antiquated, and I knew it was, but if it made me happy why should I feel bad about it? When I gave him control, I felt complete somehow. I didn't totally understand why, and at this point I didn't care. I was beyond content. Maybe it was so difficult, so much work, because it was so rewarding. The most valuable things in life were the hardest to obtain, why should this be different? I just wished I could learn to obey. I didn't understand how I could want something so much consciously, and yet my subconscious fought me about it the whole way. I felt my own brain was trying to sabotage me. 

As we got ready to go to bed, Tom told me that he wanted me to sleep with my arms bound. "Darling, I want you to think about our relationship more. I want you to really know what it means to you… you know, to submit to me." His voice always got a little tentative when he would talk about certain things. It seemed his insecurities were the final few vestiges of his old life, and the way his last relationship made him feel. He still had a lot of them, but I hoped and trusted they would gradually fade away.

"Is this supposed to be a punishment?" I wasn't opposed to it, at all, I was just curious. I should have kept my mouth shut. I struggled constantly with learning to just shut up.

"Is being bound to me a punishment?" The look he gave me was crushing. He looked devastated and pissed at the same time.

"I- I'm sorry… sir…" The tears came. I had missed him so much and I felt like everything I had done since I got to Iceland was wrong. 

"Oh, Elizabeth, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound like that," he soothed as he took my face in his hands, kissing me softly and pressing his forehead to mine. 

"Tom… I'm trying so hard and I still feel like everything I say or do is wrong."

"Look at me," he tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. "I don't get upset when you fail. I only get upset when you don't try. And I know that you're trying. I don't believe you'd let me put this on you if you weren't. Remember, I'd do anything for you." He held the lock between his thumb and forefinger, and I began to sob. "Oh sweetheart…"

"It's just… I missed you so much and I just… I just wish I were better because I want you to trust me and I want to give you this… give you  _me_."

"I trust you, I'm trying to move forward. I am. You're perfect, sweetheart, really." He reached over and turned off the light, then held me in his arms, rocking me just a little bit. "Shh… Elizabeth, you're perfect. You're my perfect girl."

****

In Iceland, our schedule had us starting very early but ending relatively early as well. The first day we were up at 4, and the car came at 5. When Tom got to Iceland before me, he began to get worried about me being too cold, although he was not keen on changing my dress rules. So instead, he had me buy some wool thigh high leg warmers, like the kind ballet dancers wear, before I left England. Thank god, because I didn't realize his shoots were almost all outside. In the mountains. Luckily I was on my feet all day, as my ass was sore beyond belief.

That first morning, Tom and I discussed the rules on the way to set. Together, we came up with the following additions:

  *  _Once Tom makes a final decision, it is not to be questioned._
  * _No drinking without permission._
  * _No hugging, kissing (even on the cheek), meeting with, texting, or calling other men (Tom insisted this one is included under 'no being disrespectful' although I disagreed)_
  * _I'm required to keep the list of rules on my phone._
  * _I am also responsible for keeping track of infractions per Tom's instructions. I will keep a list on my phone so that Tom can mete out punishment later at his leisure and discretion._
  * _Temporary rule: For the next 3 days, I am required to count to 5 before answering any question or saying anything to Tom. This will teach me to control my tongue better, and will help me learn to be more disciplined and more submissive. The only exceptions are during sex, and if I'm simply agreeing ("Yes, sir")._
  * _Tom is allowed to pick the punishment, no matter what. It is not negotiable._



These were all rules we had agreed upon, and I accepted, although the one about other men seemed so broad. However, I knew it was directly related to his insecurities, so I just let it go. Then, I decided to bring up the rule I felt was unfair. So I took a deep breath, and just blurted it out: "Tom, I think the rule about Tumblr and Twitter is unfair."

"Okay, sweetheart, I can understand that." His face placid, his voice even and calm.

"Umm… so what I meant was that I feel that the rule should be changed." My leg was bobbing up and down, I was so nervous for asking, but I felt it should be discussed. I didn't think it was fair he was allowed to be on sites like that but I wasn't. 

"Elizabeth, I could give you a million reasons for why this is a good rule. But I'll give you one and only one: I have to be on Twitter, because it's part of my job as an actor to have a relationship with my fans. You must understand that, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, but when you are on these sites, invariably you see photos of me, or more specifically, photos of me and fans, and it gets you very upset. Correct?"

"Not always…"

"Elizabeth, please. Don't try to deny it. It's ridiculous."

I hated it when he was condescending to me. I bit my lip and dropped my eyes, worried my attitude was visible on my face. Finally I answered, "Yes, sir."

"So, if it's something that has the potential to create stress, not only for you, but for our relationship, isn't it logical that maybe you should leave it alone?"

"Sir…"

"Elizabeth."

"But Tom, I…"

"End of discussion."

My face turned red and my jaw clenched. It wasn't that I was unprepared for him to say no, I knew it was a distinct possibility. It was that he used that particular excuse. It just pissed me off. He knew I was irritated, and he grabbed me by the chin, turning my face towards his, not roughly but not gently either. "Elizabeth, look at me." I looked up and his face was rigid.

"Yes, sir."

" _End of discussion_."

"Yes, sir." He leaned in and kissed me, forcing me to relent, forcing me to let go, and I did. 

"Good girl."

****

At the end of my first day on set, it was only 7, and the drive back only about 30 minutes, so Tom decided to take me out to dinner. We stopped back by the hotel, where Tom chose my outfit and then showered while I got dressed. We were both incredibly horny, because the Iceland set had much less privacy than in England. In other words, no sex on our lunch break. So by the time we got back to the hotel, I wanted him desperately. Our attraction, physical attraction to each other, was almost unbearable at times. It was incredible. Explosive. And when he came out of the bathroom, wet, wearing only a towel and smelling of peppermint soap… 

"You look fantastic, darling. Just lovely. Turn around." I began to turn around, slowly, so he could see every angle. Once I faced him again, he licked his lips, eyeing my cleavage as he walked towards me. He had picked out my maroon dress, the one that made my breasts look twice as big. Now it looked like he was going to rip it off.

"Come here, sweetheart, we have one little thing to finish first. Punishment for talking back today."

"Yes, sir." 

He pulled me over his lap, carefully rolling my dress around my waist and pulling my panties down just past my ass. With one hand he grabbed me by the hair, keeping me still, the other hand rubbing little circles on each buttock. My clitoris throbbed and tiny gasps kept rising from my throat. "Shhh… no sounds. If you want to get fucked tonight you'll keep that pretty little mouth shut. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," I whined, my brow furrowing. With no other warning, he began to spank me. God I missed his hand. He spanked me so hard, at least 20 times, but I didn't utter a sound, despite the fresh bruises from the night before. The glorious agony of each strike, each one making my slit wetter, and I could feel it, feel the moisture, feel the blood rushing to my sex, throbbing, pounding. I kept hoping he'd shove his fingers into me,  _something, anything_ to give me some release. Instead, he pulled my panties up and said simply, "Kneel."

He knew. And he loved it. Loved to make little jokes about me being a fan. It gave him a little ego trip. I slid off his lap and onto the floor, moving in between his knees. He undid his towel, leaning back on his elbows, his cock already completely hard. "I want you to fuck me with your mouth, darling. I want my cock to hit the back of your throat until you submit, taking me completely, without any resistance. I want to come in your throat so hard you can barely keep from gagging."

"Yes, sir," I replied breathlessly, his scent driving me wild. Parting my lips a little bit, I kissed the head, my tongue pressed into the little indentation, the taste of pre-cum making me even hornier. I swirled it around, moving my lips at the same time, listening to him moan already. Then I grabbed his length in my right hand, taking just the head into my mouth, sucking leisurely, lowering gradually until I could move my hand out of the way and use only my mouth. "Fuck, Elizabeth, your tongue is… heavenly."

I wrapped my hands around his hips, opening my mouth wider, coaxing him to push upward, relaxing my body in preparation. He arched his back, slightly at first but eventually he was thrusting forcefully.  I met each movement, bearing down, compelling him into my throat. His muscles twitching, his face contorted and I knew it was close. He wound his fingers into my hair, pulling me to him and forcing his cock deeper until he began to explode inside my throat, the liquid thick and hot, his voice a soft, prolonged groan, trickling from his mouth like rain on a window.

I gently massaged him, stroking tenderly, prolonging the length of his orgasm as he collapsed back onto the bed. Then I licked his cock clean as he looked down on me adoringly. I felt so proud. I just wanted everything I did to make him happy. "Elizabeth, you just…"

"So that was good?" I asked flirtatiously, my tongue still running along the underside of his softening cock.

"Darling, that was amazing."

"So I'm a good girl?"

"That was a  _very_  good girl. Are you going to be my good little slut tonight?"

"Yes, sir." I finished licking his cock and sat back on my heels, my arms behind my back. He liked when I did things that were deferential without having to be told. 

"Tell me."

"I'm your good little slut, sir." I wanted his cock inside me so badly, I could barely sit still, my hips shifting as I tried to relieve the pressure.

"We'll see how good you are. Get on the bed, head down, ass up." Tom got up and went to get something from the other room, but I couldn't see what it was. I was hoping to god he'd fuck me, but since we had dinner plans, I had my doubts that would happen. And I was right. Instead, pushing my panties to the side, he took a rather tiny dildo, no more than two or three inches, and pushed it slowly into my wet cunt. "If you can keep this in through dinner, then you'll get your reward. Understood?"

"Sir…"

"Get up." Oh god, that voice. That voice he always uses when he's annoyed with me. He gestured for me to move in front of him, kneeling on the bed. "Now, did you wait before you said that?"

"No, sir."

"And that would also be considered talking back, yes?" He was glaring at me, and I dropped my eyes quickly downward, adopting as servile an expression as I could muster. 

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir."

"If you keep racking up infractions your whole night will be spent getting whipped. Is that really what you want?" He shook his head, then gave me that look. It was a look I had grown to love and hate at the same time. It was a look that said, " _I'm so disappointed in you right now, but the idea of punishing you gets me so excited."_

"No, sir."

He grabbed me by the throat, squeezing just a little bit, his face expressionless. "No more disobedience, darling. Understood?"

He let go, and I whispered, "Yes, sir." 

Tom went and got dressed, and when he came back in, I looked up at him expectantly. He was all smiles again. "Come darling. Reservations are for 8:30."

****

When we were in England, we never went into London except for the cast party. We spent all of our time alone, together, in our hotel room. I had never even been to his house. To be honest, I never thought it was strange, I just accepted it. I mean half the time we were fucking anyway, so it was easier just to stay at the hotel. I think Tom was getting a little antsy to make our relationship more official, though. He had asked me about announcing it through his publicist, but I was a little wary, so I just tried to avoid giving him a definitive answer. But now things were changing. I wanted everyone to know I was his. And going out to fancy restaurants was certainly one way of accomplishing that. 

When we got to the restaurant, the hostess was all over him immediately. Didn't even try to hide it, leaning forward shamelessly with her tits in his face. But Tom was very sweet, holding my hand and keeping his eyes on me. Once we sat down, Tom ordered us some wine and I tried to get up the courage to ask him something I'd been avoiding for three days.

When I accepted my original job with Marvel, I had scheduled for Thanksgiving off so that I could go home and visit my mom in Wisconsin. However, when I took over as Tom's personal assistant, my schedule changed. So Marvel had finally informed me of this three days prior (even though I already had my ticket purchased). When Tom and I had gotten in the huge fight over Chris and Iceland, I didn't know how to bring it up. Basically, I had to ask Tom permission to go, both professionally and in terms of our relationship. I would be gone for 4 days, and I knew he was going to say no. I just didn't know how I was supposed to explain it to my mother.

"Tom?" I took a sip of wine and my hand began to shake. I exhaled deliberately and tried to stop my leg from shaking as well.

"What's wrong? Darling you're scaring me." He reached across the table, taking my hand, his brows knitted together in worry.

"No, I'm sorry… I just… I need to ask you a favor." 

"And you're scared to ask me?" Goddamn that look. Those eyes.  _Why did he make me wear a fucking dildo tonight?_  Now all I could think about was fucking him. I tried to concentrate.

I admitted softly, "Yes."

"Sweetheart, you don't have to be scared of me." I lowered my eyes, passively waiting for him to finish, trying to make sure I thought through everything I said. "Not like that you don't." He looked insulted, but he just didn't understand. I was worried he'd either freak out again or just say no. I couldn't decide which would be worse.

"I was supposed to go home for Thanksgiving, but when I changed jobs, they changed my schedule and didn't tell me. And…" I sighed, chewing on my lip, my leg's up and down movement obvious against the table. 

"Yes, I know darling, didn't you see the schedule?"

"What schedule? No, I only have through to next Thursday. They usually only email me a week in advance and this was my first full day, so…" How did he know? I didn't understand.

"Elizabeth, we rearranged the schedule so that I can go with you." He was grinning like a little kid, ear to ear, his fingers now interlocked with mine. So happy. He just looked ecstatic. 

"Wait, and you didn't tell me? Or ask?" Why would he do this? Why would he invite himself to go with me and not even discuss it? "When were you going to tell me?"

"You don't want me to go." He snatched his hand from mine. 

"It's not that, but god Tom, you didn't even ask me. Or tell me. Of course I want you to go… I just…" I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, both from the stress of the situation and the constant arousal.  _Why tonight? Jesus this was hard enough._

Tom was shaking his head, almost imperceptibly, and I could see his whole body stiffen. "I can't believe I went through hell to do this for you and you're bloody ungrateful. You are unbelievable sometimes…" Just then the waiter came and Tom ordered for us both. After he left, I sat there, feeling terrible but also confused. Tom leaned across the table, whispering tersely, "It was supposed to be a fucking surprise. Okay? I wasn't trying to be controlling or possessive, I was trying to be nice."

"I'm sorry, I just… please don't be mad at me. Please."  _I can't cry here. I can't cry_. But when I looked up, he looked like he'd been punched.  _Oh god_.

"Whatever. I already bought the tickets. But if you don't want me to go, I won't." He looked around the room, anywhere but at me.

"Please don't do this, I apologized. I said I was sorry. Please don't. Of course I would love for you to go. Please. You know I love you." I was reaching across the table, begging him to forgive me, begging him to meet me halfway. Finally he did, his perfect fingers interlacing with mine as I tried to keep the tears at bay. "I'm sorry, Tom. I am. I love you more than anything."

I could see him relax just a little bit, and finally he smiled, albeit a subdued smile. "It's fine, darling. I love you too."


End file.
